Fine Lines
by rijane
Summary: Beth celebrates her birthday, with a little drama and a lot of fluff


Title: Fine Lines

Author: rijane

Rating: PG-13

Spoiler: Let's go with post-12:04 (ish). But let's pretend that Mick sucked up his drama and kissed poor Beth back. And Josh went off into the sunset with Morgan before all the drama.

Author's Note: Um, I meant this to be happier. I at least meant for there to be sex. Yet still, the angst abounds.

Also, bonus points to the first person who can catch my reference to the best musical out there ... ;)

Fine Lines

Half-dressed, in a slip and shoes, face bare, Beth stared at herself, magnified to the detail she suspected Mick could see, that every vampire could see. The bright bluish light cast against her skin would make any woman shrink against the glare.

But in a warped Narcissus moment she was caught in the surface reserved for the plucking and painting and probing that made modern beauty.

She pushed against the skin, pulling it taut. Every pore examined. Every imperfection mourned. An echo of the past and the shadows of the future.

Creases to crow's feet.

Lover to friend.

Smile lines to wrinkles.

Reality to pretend.

Everything in her life was about fine, fine lines.

Beth grabbed the pink and black jar -- Oil of Olay -- and slathered it against her skin. It smelled like her mother, which may have made things worse. She covered the smell with the dust of blush, liner, mascara. Water-proof mascara.

She resolved never to smile again. Or frown. Or laugh. Beth used to scoff at the frozen-faced beauties being dragged down the inevitable decline of age and time. She'd been proud of her lack of concern about the whole thing. Hours in the sun, late nights and stress. Beth never thought about the consequences.

But the fear and the reality of time were suddenly pulling at her, writ large in the contours of her face.

Lola's words echoed in her head, "He lets you know what we are and then leaves you on the edge of our world looking in. ... Don't you want to do more than just look ... You're young. In a year or two, when he stops coming round and you look in the mirror..."

The weight of another year on her body, the etching of time against her skin. Today she was too young for him. When would she be too old?

She couldn't seem to break free of the loop of thoughts, the starkly honest reflection, the longing for him, forever. A faint pounding noise registered at the edge of her consciousness, but Beth didn't move.

A minute later, her heart jumped when his cool hands rested against her bare shoulders.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

Beth flicked off the light and flipped the mirror over to the normal size.

"Hi there," she tilted her head back to look at him. He bent down and kissed her, chastely. As always, Beth opened her mouth to move the kiss from sweet to sensual. But she broke it off quickly. She grabbed her dress from the nearby bed and stood to shimmy into it.

"We're going to be late," Mick announced with uncharacteristic impatience. He was excited. Beth tried for a beaming smile, despite her vows against them earlier, but landed directly on melancholy. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Beth blushed.

"Something's wrong. You were needling me all afternoon to know what I planned," Mick turned her around and zipped the dress. "Now not even a follow-up. Like, where are we going to be late to?"

"I'm fine."

Leaning across the bed, Beth snapped off the bedroom lights. She dumped her license, a credit card and lip-gloss into a smaller clutch. She hesitated and grabbed a small notepad and pen for those moments of inspiration.

"You are not fine. This is not happy birthday girl behavior," Mick leaned against the doorframe and Beth couldn't decide whether she wanted to jump him or belt him for being so damn ageless and perfect.

"Let's not talk about my birthday," Beth replied shortly. "Let's just have a fun night out celebrating ... life."

"Beth, this night is sort of themed around it being your birthday," Mick blocked her attempt to exit the bedroom.

"We don't need to advertise that I'm getting older. I think it's quite obvious just looking at me," Beth snapped.

"Beth, you're just turning 27," Mick smiled.

"I'm three years away from 30. It's... it's ..." Beth felt the tears prick her eyes, knowing she was being foolish. "I'm almost old."

She could tell he was holding back a laughing fit. As much as she loved to hear his rare laugh, that made it worse.

"Don't. It's not funny," Beth gave Mick a pointless smack on the chest. She was more likely to break her hand than cause him any damage.

"You're right, it's not funny," the few inches between them disappeared. Laughter still sparkled in his eyes. "It's very, very serious."

He tilted her face toward his and stared. Beth shuddered under his scrutiny and tried to move away. Mick wouldn't let her, so instead she closed her eyes.

"When I look at you, I want to remember every smile," he kissed the corner of her left eye, then her right.

"I want to know every worry," his fingers ran between her eyes, up across her forehead. Another cold kiss blossomed into heat.

"I want to see the evidence of every laugh," his mouth moved to the stretch of skin next to hers. Then the other side.

Beth moved her mouth over his, letting him tease her into the kiss. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight. Beth wrapped her arms around his neck and let her weight fall backward, toward the bed.

But Mick refused to follow suit. His lock tight grip kept them both upright. Ever the gentleman. Unfortunately, Beth didn't want to act like a lady.

"I know how many candles are on your cake, but you're acting like a teenager," Mick gasped a little as her warm hand generated some heat from his cold body.

"Mmm..." Beth was making her way down his chest, finding something far more interesting that her own mortality and imperfections. "I'm old. Let me have my fun while everything still works right."

"What if you break a hip?" the hand stopped. Probably for the best. Until it tightened to just a shade past uncomfortable.

"I know you have big, bad vampire strength on your side, but basic biology says I could hurt you very badly right now. If I wanted."

"I don't think you want to," if Beth wasn't mistaken, Mick's pallor dropped a shade. "If you do that, you'll never find out where we're going."

With a sigh, Beth removed her hand. She stood, straightened her dress and reapplied her lip-gloss. A hand hovered over the fine lines from her nose to her mouth.

"Okay, time to shower the old lady in the room with presents and well wishes," Beth took Mick's proffered arm and they left the apartment for parts unknown.

Hours later, a birthday hat perching cock-eyed on her head and clutching a newly opened bottle of champagne in her hand, Beth stood over a reclining Mick, his arms crossed behind his head. She had only a small telltale wobble in her high heels as she loomed over him.

"So where's my present?"

"What, I'm not present enough?" Mick gave a half-grin and she nearly melted.

"You won't let me unwrap you," she plopped down next to him, slipping out of her high heels. Mick and Beth had outlasted the crowds, the jazz quartet, even the bar staff of the club. She'd worn the silly hat because it made his eyes light up and he'd sung a soulful "Happy Birthday" in her ear, hands tracing patterns on her shoulders, her neck.

They'd danced with the music of the band, danced with the music of their hearts. Mick had led her to a small stretch of beach. Now, passing a bottle of champagne back and forth, they sat on the beach, enjoying the melody of each other.

"You can't unwrap this present either. I hope that's okay," Mick took a swig from the bottle, then pressed it back into her hands. "Wait here."

Beth blinked and he was gone. On a second blink, he was standing over her, clutching a battered acoustic guitar. She dropped the bottle in surprise.

"You play?" Beth got to her knees. Mick settled opposite her, hugging the guitar beneath his arm.

"I did. A long time ago. I'm a little rusty, but I've felt the urge to play again lately," Mick looked down, watching the guitar as he began to strum lightly, soft blues chords that Beth faintly recognized. His fingers fluttered across the fret lines with a careful practice. Then his rich, rough voice began to sing. Quietly at first, building in strength.

"_It's late in the evening; she's wondering what clothes to wear.  
She puts on her make-up and brushes her long blonde hair.  
And then she asks me, "Do I look all right?"  
And I say, "Yes, you look wonderful tonight."_

We go to a party and everyone turns to see  
This beautiful lady that's walking around with me.  
And then she asks me, "Do you feel all right?"  
And I say, "Yes, I feel wonderful tonight."

I feel wonderful because I see  
The love light in your eyes.  
And the wonder of it all  
Is that you just don't realize how much I love you.

It's time to go home now and I've got an aching head,  
So I give her the car keys and she helps me to bed.  
And then I tell her, as I turn out the light,  
I say, "My darling, you were wonderful tonight.  
Oh my darling, you were wonderful tonight."

The final chords echoed against the crashing of the waves as tears played at Beth's eyes. Mick finally looked up.

"That was…" words failed her for one of the few times in her short life. "wonderful."

Mick lifted the guitar over his head and rested it nearby. Beth fell into his open arms, burying her head into the crook of his neck.

"You really are wonderful tonight. Every night," Mick whispered. "Happy birthday, Beth."


End file.
